storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2010-12-07 09:02 am
storypaint) wrote2010-12-07 09:02 am
[Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle] make love with our hands (Syaoran/Sakura)
Title: make love with our hands
Fandom: Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle
Length: 410 words
Prompt: clonefic, hands for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lady_kikyou
Pairing: Real!Syaoran/Real!Sakura; Clone!Syaoran/Clone!Sakura
Other: Spoilers for end of series. PG for angst/themes.
Excerpt: He touches her all the time. At first, it is in the manner of new lovers, always desperate to be near each other, to reassure themselves that the beloved actually exists. But as time goes on, it's more of a rope, more of a lifeline.
He touches her all the time. At first, it is in the manner of new lovers, always desperate to be near each other, to reassure themselves that the beloved actually exists. But as time goes on, it's more of a rope, more of a lifeline. They have been overwhelmed since youth with the memories of a life that they didn't quite live, with love and pain and hurt and need, souls burdened with choices.
They love each other, and it is a love of their own, birthed out of dreams and imagination, tailored to reality as they learn what it is. Sakura still can't cook. Syaoran is still too quiet. They both miss their parents and their children.
He steadies her, continually, with a hand on the small of her back, tangled in her hair, inching down her shoulder. With Syaoran there, she dreams less, and wakes to comfort from her nightmares.
After all, they are real.
*
They can't talk with the same ease that Mokona does, slipping into each other's dreams through wide-open doors and well-marked paths. Still, Sakura tries, and when the moon is full, sometimes she succeeds. He hears her, first, always, a jingling foot, before she's flying into his arms, interrupting whatever dream he's having so he can put his hands on the small of her back and hold her close.
They don't meet in person nearly enough, but neither complains; it is part of their penance, and something to be dealt with, not despaired over. They take each moment they're together as a gift, with the unspoken assumption that one day he will be back to stay, along with Fai and Kurogane and the ones who gave birth to them. And Watanuki too, will put out his pipe and join them, and Syaoran and Sakura will fall asleep holding hands with the knowledge that they will do so for the rest of their lives.
She places his hands on her belly, where the child sits low and firm. He feels his son's heartbeat in his fingers, and wonders whether they're going to repeat this cycle, whether the boy will be born with amber eyes and a princess in another country. He hopes they have paid enough for someone entirely new.
He will not be there when the child is born, but she shuts her eyes and grabs Touya's hand and pretends.
Fandom: Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle
Length: 410 words
Prompt: clonefic, hands for
lady_kikyouPairing: Real!Syaoran/Real!Sakura; Clone!Syaoran/Clone!Sakura
Other: Spoilers for end of series. PG for angst/themes.
Excerpt: He touches her all the time. At first, it is in the manner of new lovers, always desperate to be near each other, to reassure themselves that the beloved actually exists. But as time goes on, it's more of a rope, more of a lifeline.
He touches her all the time. At first, it is in the manner of new lovers, always desperate to be near each other, to reassure themselves that the beloved actually exists. But as time goes on, it's more of a rope, more of a lifeline. They have been overwhelmed since youth with the memories of a life that they didn't quite live, with love and pain and hurt and need, souls burdened with choices.
They love each other, and it is a love of their own, birthed out of dreams and imagination, tailored to reality as they learn what it is. Sakura still can't cook. Syaoran is still too quiet. They both miss their parents and their children.
He steadies her, continually, with a hand on the small of her back, tangled in her hair, inching down her shoulder. With Syaoran there, she dreams less, and wakes to comfort from her nightmares.
After all, they are real.
*
They can't talk with the same ease that Mokona does, slipping into each other's dreams through wide-open doors and well-marked paths. Still, Sakura tries, and when the moon is full, sometimes she succeeds. He hears her, first, always, a jingling foot, before she's flying into his arms, interrupting whatever dream he's having so he can put his hands on the small of her back and hold her close.
They don't meet in person nearly enough, but neither complains; it is part of their penance, and something to be dealt with, not despaired over. They take each moment they're together as a gift, with the unspoken assumption that one day he will be back to stay, along with Fai and Kurogane and the ones who gave birth to them. And Watanuki too, will put out his pipe and join them, and Syaoran and Sakura will fall asleep holding hands with the knowledge that they will do so for the rest of their lives.
She places his hands on her belly, where the child sits low and firm. He feels his son's heartbeat in his fingers, and wonders whether they're going to repeat this cycle, whether the boy will be born with amber eyes and a princess in another country. He hopes they have paid enough for someone entirely new.
He will not be there when the child is born, but she shuts her eyes and grabs Touya's hand and pretends.